


the one where sex isn't commutative

by whereisthebepis (inlightofvisa)



Series: The McCall-Hale Diaries [30]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: But it's not like they make cookies, But mostly not simultaneously because that's hard, F/M, I mean there are edible body paints, M/M, Sometimes at the same time, There are cookies, There is also sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlightofvisa/pseuds/whereisthebepis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott's actions are justifiable. Kind of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the one where sex isn't commutative

**Author's Note:**

> Wow it's only like half a year late no big deaaalllllll
> 
> ETA: Now with pictures!

Derek loves cookies. Chocolate chip peanut butter cookies, to be exact. Stiles knows this from lots of experimentation—experimentation being forcing Derek to go grocery shopping with him and buy millions of bags (okay, only like maybe ten) of Pepperidge Farm cookies and seeing Derek’s reaction to each flavor. Chocolate chip had gotten a yummy sound, oatmeal raisin had gotten a downright negative (“Who even _likes_ oatmeal raisin?” Derek had asked after spitting out half the cookie. Stiles frowned at him. ” _I_ do,” he’d said, folding his arms in mock anger), and peanut butter had gotten another pleased sound. And a pleased face.

So Stiles is very aware of the fact that he has a stack of warm, fresh-from the oven peanut-butter-chocolaty _winners_ on the plate that he walks up from the kitchen. Scott had helped him keep Derek from leaving his room while Allison pitched in a helping hand, keeping the McCall-Hale kitchen from looking like someone had detonated a bag of flour in it. And to prevent the cookies from turning into just peanut butter flavored stones studded with chocolate chips.

“Baking _soda_ and baking _powder_ are not the same thing,” Allison had said, whisking the box of baking powder out of Stiles’ hands before he spilled a mess of it into the cookie batter. “Unless you’d like to make your wonderful boyfriend a batch of rocks. Like, it’d be a great practical joke, but still.” Stiles had thrown flour at her, and Allison had thrown chocolate chips back, and then the kitchen was a disaster. Whoops.

Stiles knocks on Derek’s door, peeking inside when it sneaks open. Derek is hunched over his laptop, fingers flying and keys clacking as he bangs out an essay he claims he has due the day he gets back. Which is tomorrow. Pshhhhh.

“Derek?” Stiles asks, easing himself into Derek’s room carefully, trying his hardest not to drop any of his beautiful babies on the ground. Derek perks up at the smell but continues typing. “Derek, come on. You’ve been at this essay for _hours_ , it’s time to take a break. You deserve it! At least one!”

“No,” Derek huffs, fingers pausing as he squeezes his eyes shut. He looks at the paper he has next to his laptop. “I need to finish this essay by tonight before I leave to go back to school, you don’t… what are you doing?”

Stiles sets the plate of cookies down on Derek’s desk, kicks the door closed with his foot, and then pulls his shirt off over his head. Ungracefully. He flails for a bit, arms tangled. Derek sighs fondly before standing up and helping Stiles out of his shirt.

“Hey,” Stiles says, blushing and reaching for a cookie. Derek smiles right back, hands on Stiles’ waist.

“Hey yourself,” he says, glaring at the baked good. He watches as Stiles breaks the cookie in half, chocolate chip melting apart. Stiles pushes one half into Derek’s mouth, and then shoves the other half in his own mouth. He takes a moment to enjoy his and Allison’s handiwork—the chocolate splashes like paint against the lovely peanut-buttery canvas backdrop like a Jackson Pollock, but this version makes so much more delicious sense. Derek seems to agree that the thing is freaking delicious, because he makes this kind of orgasmic noise and Stiles loses it a little bit.

“ _Stop_ that,” he says, thwacking Derek’s chest. “All work and no play makes Derek a dull boy.” Derek snorts before licking a bit of chocolate from the corner of Stiles’ lips. “And, these Stiles cookies come with an actual Stiles.”

Derek looks at him, puzzled as Stiles fists his hands in the front of Derek’s shirt.

“I don’t know what you—oh,” he says lamely, shifting his hands where they still are around Stiles’ waist so that his fingers are locked together. “Well, I guess I _could_ take a break to enjoy these cookies fully.”

“Wouldn’t want them to go to waste,” Stiles says, waggling his eyebrows and then pecking Derek on the mouth. “I mean, they come with an entire _person_ to enjoy.”

* * *

 Stiles tromps into Scott’s room an hour later, cookies still soft but a little cold on the plate. Allison sits on Scott’s bed, cross-legged and reading a book. She smiles brightly at him.

“Did he like them?”

“Uh, yeah he did,” Stiles says, pumping his fist in the air. “Thanks for the help, dude. I mean dudes.”

Scott beams from where he’s sitting in front of his computer attempting to work on his chemistry homework. Key word: attempting.

“Glad to be able to help,” he says earnestly, and Scott definitely wins the award for Most Likely to be a Puppy because he just looks like a small dog being praised by his owner. He’s glowing so bright that Stiles thinks he might need sunglasses and some sunscreen.

“Any time you want to dial down the appreciation would be nice,” Stiles says, shielding his eyes jokingly. “I might get a sunburn here from all the positivity.”

Scott smiles at him goofily before reaching for a cookie.

“Well, I mean, we haven’t really been able to hang out because you’re always with Derek but now you’re here and you made cookies and Allison’s here, and…” Scott trails off before closing his eyes, obviously blissed out and enjoying the taste of the cookie. Stiles gives him a look before glancing at Allison, who shrugs her shoulders.

“Cookie me,” she says. Stiles tosses one at her general direction before proffering Scott another cookie to replace the one he wolfed down.

“Good?” he asks them. Allison smiles sweetly as she finishes the cookie in two bites, grabbing for another one. Scott nods fiercely. “Awesome! Everybody loves ‘em.”

“Oh, I’m sure Derek _especially_ liked them,” Allison says pointedly, smirking. Scott blanches, swallowing.

“Stiles, did you have _sex_ on these cookies?” he asks, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Allison looks at Scott, giggling before turning back to look at Stiles for an answer. Stiles chuckles nervously.

“Well, I mean, they were in the same room,” Stiles answers. He feels his face heating up as he tries not to think about how many cookies exactly made it onto Derek’s bed. Not that he put those ones back on the plate, ewgrossno. Stiles likes pranking his friends, but pranks that involve bodily fluids are just _no_.

“That’s still not answering my question,” Scott says, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Did you or did you _not_ have sex on these cookies.”

“I said they were in the same room, they were very close to us when we were doing things,” Stiles says, ducking as Scott flings the rest of his uneaten cookies at him. “What?! Why are you throwing these gorgeous delicious tasty morsels of heaven at me?”

“They’re covered in _sex_!” Scott howls, chasing Stiles out into the hallway. “Stiles, this is _disgusting_!”

**Author's Note:**

> Artwork by Aidi (indecentdrawer.tumblr.com) and shitty writing by me (whereisthebepis.tumblr.com)!


End file.
